


Morning Light (Meet Me Across the Table)

by jasminetea



Series: in the light [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alpha Charles Xavier, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Morning After, Omega Erik Lehnsherr, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Negotiation, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasminetea/pseuds/jasminetea
Summary: The morning after.





	Morning Light (Meet Me Across the Table)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [For-Chan Cookie (ForChanCookie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForChanCookie/gifts).

> My thoughts on sex work have grown since I initially wrote this fic, so I've tried to balance writing about a group I'm not a part of along with finally writing this promised fic. 
> 
> Thank you to the readers who stuck around for this, For-Chan Cookie for waiting, and the anon on Tumblr for the reminder folks still wanted to read this.

Erik doesn't know why he did it. (He does, it's the hormones, the iron-clad promise of sex so good, Erik isn't sure anything else will do.) But even with the glass between them, it had been a searing moment of lust, and Erik wasn't sure if anything else would ever do again.

In the changing room, all cleared out because the other performers wanted to see what the fuck was going on, Erik places his hands on the counter and tries to catch his breath. His breaths still come heavy, and each one is still full of sharp and cutting spice.

_Fuck it_, he thinks, and slips on a robe.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" Angel asks, arms crossed over her leather jacket.

He doesn't know, but he licks his lips.

"Ugh, dickhead, let me go with you before you do something you regret." She shoves him out the door, muttering about how sticking to coworkers is better than this.

* * *

Tony, for all his trouble, is just as good at patching it up as causing them. Thank goodness, because once Charles had been yanked down into his seat, he had the wherewithal to finally look away from the omega -- who wore a particularly confused and concerned expression upon his face -- he saw the massive bodyguard who had him pinned to the table.

"Hands on the fucking table, alpha." And Charles has no doubt this man could quite easily beat him into a pulp.

He's then manhandled into a dark corner of the club, away from the mayhem, where he sits dazed. Tony's probably doing what he does best -- his idea of damage control that makes Pepper's job harder, not easier. He watches the scene unfold: security trying to calm the alphas Charles and the omega's display had riled, the omega performers egging it all on in good cheer, and the betas shaking their heads at the whole display.

And then the omega stands in front of him. His pheromones are so thick in the air, Charles hadn't noticed his approach. He's covered neck to his bare feet in a white terrycloth robe.

"Here," he says tightly, like this is something he hates, and holds a piece of paper out to Charles.

Charles takes it. "Thank you," he says reflexively. His brain is still trying to redirect blood flow to words and thoughts, but the omega leaves and is replaced by a delicate woman in a leather jacket two sizes too big for her.

"I'm a bouncer, you fucker," she says.

"My apologies. You are quite beautiful for a beta." She was, dark hair pulled away from her face, silver studs dotting her ears, and wonderful scent of cardamom and whatever she conditioned her jacket with.

She grimaces. "I'm gonna let that one slide. I think this is a stupid idea, but I also think Lehnsherr needs to get laid the way I need cash. _Don't_ make me regret this."

Charles nods and then says, "Wait, are you going to let me into his changing room?"

"Of course not you idiot, you're both too high on hormones."

She points to the piece of paper in Charles' hand, but he's too addled to get what's miming at.

He spends the reset of the night moping, but when morning comes, he finally realizes what he has.

* * *

They meet in a coffee shop in the early hours of morning, right after the 9-5 crowd leaves. Charles blows on his coffee, wondering if the omega -- the bouncer _had_ said his name, but Charles can't remember much after being pulled away from the stage until Tony was laughing his ass off as they drove away -- will show up.

After the club, when Charles had woken up with his head finally clear of hormonal haze, he'd groped around his nightstand for a glass of water and an Advil. What he found, though, was a piece of paper scrawled with a phone number in ink. He looked at it blearily for a moment, remembered what had happened, was embarrassed beyond belief, but then picked up his phone, and ignored the texts from Tony, Raven, and who knows who else.

_Hello? _he'd asked. And to his surprise, the omega had texted back with this location and time. It's a couple minutes past the hour, and Charles wonders if he's about to be stood up.

He's waiting for... what, a hookup as Tony would say? True love as Raven would? He keeps blowing on his tea, even though it's tepid now, and then the omega slides into the seat across from him.

His scent is milder, barely perceptible really, but Charles focuses on it along with the smell of espresso, still steaming in great puffs, in his hands. His scent's not the drugging riptide it was last time; the perfume is muted and the saltiness near biting.

They take a moment to eye each other over their drinks, both of them prepared for the chill in the fall air: Charles bundled up in a tweed blazer and cashmere scarf, the omega in a wool coat with a dark turtleneck peaking out the collar.

"Good morning," Charles ventures.

The omega grunts and takes a great gulp. Charles's impressed he can drink anything so hot.

They lapse into silence, the omega drinking his scalding coffee and Charles sipping on his.

"So, ah," Charles eventually says when he can't stand the awkwardness of it all anymore, and regretting not getting his name. _Way to make an omega feel like a quick easy lay_, he admonishes himself. "What does one usually say in situations like this?"

The omega looks at him and blandly says, "I wouldn't know."

Well, when in doubt, social niceties are always the way to go. "My name's Charles."

"Erik."

More silence.

"How _do_ you drink it that hot?"

Erik shrugs. "The warmth feels good."

Charles stumbles over his words, wanting to say _I can keep you warm_, but realizes that would be absolutely terrible to say in this situation.

"Invite me home with you," Erik says at last.

"What?" This is not how Charles imagined this going at all. He'd hoped for... something... small talk? pleasantries? fond reminiscing? certainly nothing so blunt and un-romantic as this.

"I think I was clear the first time."

"I mean, you don't know anything about me! I don't know anything about you!"

Erik lifts an eyebrow.

"Ok, yes, we're sexually compatible, but that's not -- "

"That's exactly what. I know what I'm doing, and if I'm not home in a couple of hours, Angel will come by with a baseball bat and the cops not far behind her."

"...so it's a hookup you're looking for?"

"Aren't _you_? Why else would you show up to the club?"

"My friend dragged me."

"Right," Erik says making it clear he doesn't believe it. "Look, it's a terrible idea for me to date a client. Lots of things can go wrong, and a lot of the time alphas want me to quit my job, as if they plan on sticking around forever. Believe me, I have more to lose here, but even I can't deny the appeal of finding a heat partner."

Charles has no clue what to say to most of it, so he seizes upon what he can. "It's hard for you to find one?"

Erik's nose crinkles. "Yes. I assume it's not the same for you."

Charles pauses a moment. "I don't have any trouble finding a heat partner, but it's often very business-like, and it's certainly more pleasurable when you're with someone who you have good chemistry with."

Erik lifts his gaze skyward. "My next heat's not for another two weeks, but after the incident at the club..."

Is that what that cataclysmic moment of chemistry had been reduced to? Goodness, this man certainly had some room to grow in romancing someone.

"...it should be coming on in a couple of days. Are you available?"

There're so many details to hash out here. Who's place, birth control, testing, alerting friends and family, stocking up sheets and foods. But for now, Charles will take the chance he's given.

"Yes," he says.

When Erik finishes his coffee, Charles offers to escort him to his car, but he declines. Only reiterates they're to meet again for further discussions.

As Charles watches Erik disappear into the busy crosswalk, he wonders just what he's gotten himself into.


End file.
